Men of London 05 - Cross to Bare (26 page)

Brook couldn’t speak, simply shook his head as his body continued to shake with laughter. Lenny threw his head back like a diva. “Right, I’m off to my dressing room to clean up. Get rid of the trash please, Ryan. This is your club after all.”

He flounced off down the corridor and smiled when he heard the chortles behind him. He’d kicked ass tonight. He was Laverne Debussy-Smith, and may the world quake when they heard her name.

When he entered his small dressing room, the first thing he saw was the biggest bouquet of red roses he’d ever seen sitting on his dressing table. There must have been at least thirty stems sitting in a bronze vase. He actually clasped his hands to his chest dreamily, and as he was doing it, he heard a noise behind him. He turned to see Brook standing in the dimly lit doorway, arms folded across his chest, eyes a little apprehensive. He looked more composed than he’d been, and his face still held the most beautiful smile Lenny had ever seen.

“This is beautiful.” Lenny’s throat was clogged with emotion. “At least, I hope they’re from you.”

Brook moved forward and nodded. “So do I.” He grinned softly and checked the card. “Yep. They’re from some soppy sap called Brook Hunter.” He frowned. “Your face is marked. I should go bitch slap the bastard myself for laying a hand on you…”

Lenny reached up, forgetting for that split second he was in full Laverne costume. “Forget him, he’s a dick. And thank you for the lovely flowers. Although it’s supposed to be
your
birthday, not mine.” He kissed Brook, trying to convey everything he felt in that one deep, heart-wrenching press of lips on lips. When they parted, Brook reached up and wiped his lips, looking at the deep pink colour on his dusky fingertips.

“Lipstick. Not a bad taste actually.”

Lenny was pulled into a fiercer embrace and this time he was kissed with lips that took his in a fit of passion, in a possessiveness and desire that must have wiped every shred of lipstick he had off his lips. Brook’s hands were rough and demanding as he pressed himself against Lenny’s body.

He released Lenny and swatted his backside. “There, that gets rid of some of the tension. I think you need it after that catfight. Now hurry up and get changed. We have a ship to catch.”

“A ship?” Lenny said, still reeling from the kiss.

Brook chuckled. “Well, a boat. I decided to give your Christmas present a few days early because I can’t wait, plus it’s our half-year anniversary. I’ve arranged a quiet romantic dinner for us on the
Princess of Persia.
You, me, our own personal chef and waiter, and a stateroom all of our own. With a hot tub.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“I thought we’d agreed to have dinner at Galileo’s?” Lenny managed to get out. “How long have you been planning this little excursion?”

Brook shrugged. “A little while. Ryan helped me organise it. He knows the owner of the boat.”

The
Princess of Persia
was a luxurious floating restaurant that travelled up and down the Thames and was usually only available to people with too much money or good connections. Lenny supposed they fell into the latter category.

“So get your glad rags on. Make yourself even sexier.” He flashed a wicked smile at Lenny and disappeared. Lenny stood, feeling a little shell-shocked. His birthday present to Brook had been a week in Venice for the two of them in a few months’ time, plus a wardrobe of four specially designed suits with Brook’s very own personal logo:
The Gentleman
. Brook had shown him over and over again how pleased he was with his gift, and Lenny’s arse was still sore.

He showered quickly, dressed into his black Hugo Boss linen trousers and slim-fit grey shirt and shoved his feet into black double-buckle monk suede shoes. He checked himself out in the mirror and felt a sense of satisfaction that his ‘glad rags’ weren’t half bad. Lenny picked up his Vivienne Westwood black double-breasted blazer, one of his favourite fashion accessories, and slung it over his shoulder.

“You’re a walking fashion plate, baby,” he murmured to himself. “That man isn’t going to know what hit him.”

*****

The evening was as perfect as it could be. The
Princess of Persia
was as splendid as Lenny had imagined. The dinner was beyond exquisite and the slow, soft swelling of the water beneath the boat was a welcome lullaby to sitting down and enjoying a hedonistic evening of delights, the biggest of which was Brook.

Lenny’s lover was attentive, loving and sexy, taking every opportunity he could to touch Lenny, kiss Lenny, brush against Lenny and drive Lenny insane with desire. When Brook stood up from the beautifully set table and gave him a come-hither grin, Lenny was rampantly ready.

“I think it’s time for the hot tub,” Brook whispered as his fingers trailed lightly over Lenny’s collarbone, eliciting shivers and delicious tingles across his skin. His man deserved the title of King of Teasing tonight. “If you want to follow me…”

The hot tub was located along the corridor in the next section and when Lenny walked in, the room was fragranced with sandalwood, and billows of soft, white steam rose off the heated water. On the side was yet another bottle of champagne and two slim-stemmed glasses.

Without even hesitating, Brook divested himself of all his clothes and slid into the tub, his tight arse a welcome sight. Soon Lenny sat in the deep, heated water, sighing in pleasure and more than a little relief as the warmth soothed his aching cock and arse. For a long while there no sounds, except the bubbling of the water and the hiss of the generator as it powered up and down.

“So, do you want to see what your Christmas present is?” Brook asked.

Lenny opened his eyes and looked at him in amazement. “You mean there’s more?”

Brook’s eyes danced with anticipation. His boyfriend didn’t answer, simply reached out and picked up an envelope lying on the side and handed it to Lenny.

Lenny dried his fingers on his shirt, and opened the envelope. He gasped when he saw what was inside.

“Tickets to New York next year to Fashion Week,” he breathed. “And accommodation at The Gramercy Park Hotel. Oh my God, how the hell did you manage that hotel? It’s, like, booked up years in advance.” He was overwhelmed with love for the man sitting beaming at him.

“I knew you wanted to go, but you hadn’t made any plans yet so I thought I’d do it for you. And my boss knows someone at the hotel, so it wasn’t a stretch to get him to call in a favour for me.” Brook’s voice changed; he sounded hesitant. “This is also for you.”

He reached underneath his trousers and drew out a small gold box, which he handed to Lenny. With trembling and prune wrinkled fingers, Lenny opened the box and gasped. Inside were two platinum rings. He lost his breath and looked up at Brook, who was smiling at him tremulously.

“Both of us agreed we’re not ready for marriage yet, but I wondered if we could have own promise ceremony tonight. I want to know you’re mine completely and that we commit to each other without reservation.” His voice thickened. “Lenny James and Laverne Debussy-Smith, will you both accept my ring?”

Lenny couldn’t speak. This was so unexpected, so utterly,
fantabulously
mind blowing, that he simply couldn’t find the words to express himself. He wanted to yell
yes
at the top of his voice, tell Brook how much he loved him, tell him his man wanted the same thing—yet all he could do was stare at the glinting circles of metal he held in his hand and wonder why his eyes prickled and his heart ached in a good way.

“Lenny? Are you okay? Have I assumed too much? Oh, I have, haven’t I? You’re not ready for this—”

The panic in Brook’s voice spurred Lenny on. “Yes,” he breathed out in joy. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He found himself with a wet, slippery lap full of man, being kissed to oblivion, and Lenny tried valiantly to push the box he held onto the side of the hot tub before it dropped into the swirling waters.

Brook’s cock pressed against his and his head swam from the sensations flooding his being. Contentment, lust, love, an overwhelming sense of well-being and relief at being accepted for who he was without conditions.

“I love you, you know that?” Brook whispered in his ear as he held Lenny’s face in between wet hands and gazed at him with such tenderness Lenny almost blubbered. “Every facet of you. Every sexy, manly, wig-wearing, dress-clad facet of you. I am so proud of you, being who you want to be. One day I hope to grow up and be like you.” His soft chuckle melted Lenny’s bones.

“You’re pretty great yourself,” Lenny said gruffly, his throat aching with emotion. “I love you too. Happy birthday and anniversary, love. And happy nearly Christmas.”

He reached over and picked up one of the rings and motioned to Brook to hold his hand out. Brook gave it to him and Lenny slipped the ring on his left ring finger. Brook gazed down at it, his Adam’s apple bobbing then he did the same to Lenny.

They sat, Brook in Lenny’s lap, water gurgling around them, and Lenny wondered if he had the same delighted smile on his face as his lover.

Brook nuzzled Lenny’s neck and bit his skin softly. “Now we’re promised to each other and we’ve finished being all mushy, it’s time to enjoy ourselves.” He grinned slyly. “I know you’re still sore from the celebrations last night so will you make love to me please?”

Lenny swallowed, his groin uncomfortably hard, and Brook wriggled against him with a smirk. “Is that a yes I feel below me?”

Lenny smiled. “To everything,” he murmured. “To you being in my life, to everything we’re going to do together, to the way you make me complete. It’s a big yes.” He reached over and cupped Brook’s face. “Thanks for accepting me in every way. I worried I’d never find anyone who’d take us both on. And then you came along and proved me wrong, even if it started out like a bad rom-com.”

Brook’s face creased in a slow, sweet smile. He wrapped his arms around Lenny’s neck. “It’s not a hardship. It’s my honour to love a man like you, and to be loved back by you.”

The kiss they shared went on forever and as they slid against each other’s naked bodies, flesh against flesh, tongue on tongue and eager lips against lips, Lenny knew he’d come home. Home to a place where he could be himself.

And as kisses and touches became more intimate and their breathing deepened and the slickness of their skin became more urgent and needy, Lenny gave into his rising emotions and fell delightedly into the depths of Brook.

And somewhere deep inside, Laverne was cheering him on.

The End

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susan Mac Nicol is a self-confessed bookaholic, an avid watcher of videos of sexy pole-dancing men, a self-confessed geek and nerd, and in love with her Smartphone. This little treasure is called ‘the boyfriend’ by her longsuffering husband, who says if it vibrated there’d be no need for him. Susan hasn’t had the heart to tell him there’s an app for that.

A lover of walks in the forest, theatre productions, dabbling her toes in the cold North Sea and the vibrant city of London where you can experience all four seasons in a day, she is a hater of pantomime (please don’t tar and feather her), duplicitous people, bigotry and self-righteous idiots. She likes to think of herself as a ‘half full’ kind of gal, although sometimes that philosophy is sorely tested.

In an ideal world, Susan Mac Nicol would be Queen of England and banish all the bad people to the Never Never Lands of Wherever-Who Cares. As that’s not going to happen, she contents herself with writing her HEA stories and pretending that, just for a little while, good things happen to good people.

OTHER BOOKS BY SUSAN MAC NICOL

Stripped Bare

Saving Alexander

Worth Keeping

Double Alchemy

Double Alchemy:

Climax

Love and Punishment

THE MEN OF LONDON SERIES

Love You Senseless

Sight & Sinners

Suit Yourself

Feat of Clay

THE STARLIGHT SERIES

Cassandra by Starlight

Together in Starlight

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